


Two Thirds Dead

by GothMoth



Series: Phantom Phang Phucking Phreaking Phantastical Phabulous Phic Phight Phics 2.0 (The 2020 Edition) [16]
Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Badass Tucker, Blood Drinking, Blood Loss, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Death, Decapitation, Don't worry, Gen, He Just Take A Long Nap, I Love Vampires So Of Course I Had To Do This Prompt, It's Been Three Years And They Aren't Fazed By Shit Now, Jealous Sam, Major Blood Loss, Major Character Injury, Murder, Overpowered Danny, Swearing, Technical Main Character Death But Not Really, The Trio Just Don't Give A Shit Anymore, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23826082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothMoth/pseuds/GothMoth
Summary: Tucker is arguably unlucky and now Danny’s not the only spooky bastard.
Series: Phantom Phang Phucking Phreaking Phantastical Phabulous Phic Phight Phics 2.0 (The 2020 Edition) [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685341
Comments: 14
Kudos: 185
Collections: Phic Phight!





	Two Thirds Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RebelVampire666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelVampire666/gifts).



Whelp, Tucker always knew shit was going to go south for him. Something beyond just getting blamed for this or that. Beyond dropped grades and cuts that will easily heal. There have been quite a few times he’s thought ‘this is when everything goes tits up for one Tucker Foley’, but he’s pretty sure _this_ time he’s right on the money. Sure he thought that about every other time too, but whatever. The whole Dan dropping a building on his head was definitely one time he though he was done for, but that entire event was pure impossible reality-bending madness. Same with the clown roller coaster of death thing. 

Big difference now? No Danny. No superhero to save the sidekicks ass at the last second. No allies of the superhero to pull off some god-tier shit. And no working electronics; that was honestly the biggest nail in the coffin. But hey, if he dies he’ll probably just become a ghost. Death kinda stops meaning shit when all your allies and friends are dead. Sam didn’t count as living, she was totally dead on the inside. 

But enough about his mental bullshit and the deadness of those around him, back to why he’s jumping over crappy cheap Ikea furniture -or at least that’s what it better be or whoever needs a refund for this cheap crap- and throwing bits of said furniture behind him. Why? Because some crazy-ass pale lady -who seriously needs a goddamn hair cut- just _will not leave him be_. 

Normally he’d be all over some lady wanting some Too Fine Tucker but this was some serious X files Supernatural shit. Sure a lot of this wasn’t all that out of the norm for him. Pale skin? Sam. Claws? Danny. Atrocious hair? Vlad. Fangs? Sam, Danny, _and_ Vlad. Trying to graphically maim and/or probably murder him or some shit? Literally everyone he knows to a close degree excluding his own parents. The big difference here? This fucker combines all those things and isn’t a freaking ghost. 

Jumping sideways, tucking and rolling through an honestly flimsy ass wall. While the lady keeps on hissing and open mouth shrieking at him, at least ghosts fucking talked. He can’t resist shouting back, “would you stop with the screeching! I seriously doubt you’re a banshee!”. Then booking it off across the floor again, he could do with getting out of this stupid run-down house. 

He had thought finding some abandoned house would be cool and helpful for the trio. Always in search for secretive hidden places for Danny’s government-secret-even-from-the-government ass. And Sam was just into this kind of spooky gothic shit. Even if she did burn down the last abandoned house they found; she found it though, so whatever. 

Getting pulled out of his head as something slams into his back and sends him halfway across the damn room, thank fuck for high pain tolerance. Also, thank fuck for the constant exercise of ghost fighting or he’d be dead already. Super dead. Blurting out, “uber super dead! Ancients fuck!”, as he scrambles up only to get pinned down on his back. 

The girl shrieks those fucking fangs in his face. Yup, he’s fucked. Just one hundred percent out of luck. Whatever, never stopped him before. Promptly bunny kicking the lady in the stomach. Her pale and apparently weak skin just ripping clean off, “okay, _that_ is fucking disgusting”. It also does nothing but make the ground very goddamn slippery. Which of course results in him getting his ass bit; neck technically, but ass would probably be a preferred way to go, much more comical and interesting. 

Regardless he’s going to keep kicking the crap out of this girl, who is absolutely one-hundred percent a vampire. Sam might actually be a bit jealous of his corpse. ‘Taken out by a vampire bite in an abandoned run-down house’ was definitely super gothic. 

Thankfully he does get something of a dose of luck, vampire ass being more interested in his neck -why couldn’t he find a girl who liked him? And maybe a really nice PDA or two?- than holding him down. Letting him grab a chair, which is apparently the only solid piece of furniture in this entire goddamn house. Smashing the thing on her head and completely _fucking decapitating her_ , also effectively clotheslining himself; without the chair even splintering. If he doesn’t bleed to death, he is absolutely keeping this damn chair. 

Shoving himself up and grabbing his throat, which yeah, blood fucking _everywhere_ ; his poor goddamn shirt. Making use of Mr. Indestructible Chair and sitting down, digging in his pants pockets and getting out that good ol’ first aid emergency kit. Which yeah, definitely filled with not normal things. Pulling out the needle and normal people stitching, because him and Sam do get cut the Hell up here and there. 

Flicking out the compact mirror and getting to work. His neck looked like someone got a little friendly towards him with a chainsaw, but didn’t quite have the commitment to really go for it. Stitching the shredded fleshy ends together without any real hesitation or winces, hooray for three years of fighting the local nightmare fuel. But hey! at least he wasn’t as bad as Danny yet, accidentally getting stabbed and not even noticing it, was a few levels beyond Tucker’s current pain tolerance and wound apathy. 

Ignoring the slight shake of blood loss in his limbs as he wraps his throat almost tight enough to qualify as light strangulation. He’s fine. This is fine. All good. He’s not about to drop dead. Looking to the lady, or where she had been anyway. There’s just a bunch of ash? Nice, now he doesn’t have to hide a body or actually put into action that ‘how to get away with murder _and_ have a good time doing it’ plan they had made for when the day Vlad really deserved to get his head carved in with a shovel finally arrived. Tucker’s honestly impressed that day hasn’t already come. 

Kicking his foot through it and flipping off the ash the billows up into the air. Well, this was certainly less messy than leaving a pile of ectoplasmic goop. He’s not sure if that’s really a positive point for vampires though. 

Eventually getting annoyed with just leaning back in the best goddamn chair ever, Tucker decides now is getting up time. Walking around a little to make sure he isn’t just going to pitch forward into the ground and probably finish vampire ladies' job, before grabbing up the chair and heading out the door. Fuck this place, but also definitely going to be the new hideout. Then staring down at the chair just as he passes through the threshold and the chair shatters apart. “Oh fuck you”. Tossing the scraps back in only for it to put itself back together. “What the absolute fuck?”. Alright. Magic chair it is. He absolutely closes the front door without moving the chair, leaving the chair just sitting and staring out at him as he does so. He hopes that chair is the first goddamn thing he, and his friends, see when he drags their asses to his almost murder site. 

Does Tucker do the smart thing and tell his friends about getting his throat straight-up torn out as soon as he’s back in good ol’ haunted to Hell and back twenty times over Amity Park? Haha, no. He hacks a snack machine for free beef jerky -not like mayor vampire ass needs whatever sad amount of money these things make- and plays Doom till his ass passes out. This is exactly why he dropped two hundred fucking dollars on a quality gaming chair. Him and Sam needed some level of luxury to sleep, Danny could pass out bent over a fucking window frame. 

* * *

The next morning though? fuck this shit. Fuck it _a lot_. He feels like straight piss and vinegar, with a side of used kitty litter. Which, arguably, makes sense. But he’s pretty familiar with the morning after a shit-kicking. Even the kind of shit-kicking that comes with a bonus of near death. 

So obviously this time he does actually do the smart thing and goes to check his shit (before he wrecks it) in the mirror. He had had one run-in with infected wounds and would rather not do that shit again. But said mirror just decides to give him a straight-up mind fuck. 

A checklist of the mind fuckery? 

  1. His skin tone is nowhere near this rich of brown. He has never been a true dark chocolate before. He is honestly digging it a bit though

  2. He has pupils. Like, _actual pupils_. What the fuck? 

  3. Again with the skin thing. It’s like fucking porcelain or some shit. Smoothest shit he’s ever seen and he’s seen those poop ball shining videos. So that’s saying something. 

  4. Poking his face gets him noticing the goddamn pointy blade nails. Don’t get him wrong, this shit’s got to be useful. But the very first thing he’ll do, is accidentally stab himself in the eye. Ocular trauma is just _the worst._

  5. The ears are probably, like, the second thing he should have noted. But he might just be a little used to seeing pointy ass ears. Thank you Danny and near every single ghost ever. 

  6. Then there’s this pointy Venom tongue thing he’s got going on. Sure, that’s all kinds of hot, but he’s literally _already_ cut his lip with it. 

  7. And lastly, the fucking _fangs_. Which honestly? Fuck that vampire lady. Since this makes shit supremely obvious. One vampire lady plus one overzealous bite equals one probably vampire Tucker with debatable deadness. Because are vampires even fucking alive? Great. He’s having Danny’s trademarked existential crisis. 




Tucker turns away from the mirror and scratches his head, cutting himself immediately in a surprise to abso-fucking-lutely no one he’s sure. And walking back into the hallway, staring into his room and out the window. Was it the middle of the goddamn night or some shit? With his current luck, yes. Yes it was. 

Walking back to his room and snatching up his phone -making damn sure not to scratch it in the process. He already hates these things. He has nail clippers somewhere right?- and texting Sam and Danny to get their asses over here. Looking at the time and date in the process. Yup. Fucking midnight. Apparently his luck was even more shit though, seeing as it’s been a goddamn _full day._ He slept for a _day_. Only Danny could pull off fifteen-hour sleep marathons when allowed. With that in mind, it’s not surprising they come flying through his window terrifyingly fast. They really should recheck Danny’s top speed, that or maybe he just randomly developed teleportation. That was honestly just as likely. That boy just _will not_ stop collecting more powers and thusly making himself a goddamn powerhouse. 

Danny doesn’t even waste a beat before going into overprotective-ghost-guy-with-a-protective-Obsession mode, “Tuck dude what the fuck, we’ve been texting you _all day._ Also-”, cutting himself off and joining Sam is just staring at him. Which he would think is pretty fucking reasonable if it weren’t for being distracted by the fact that Sam smells like the best goddamn cut of lamb steak with a side of candied cherries. And Danny legit just straight up smells like death topped with whip cream?; which he’d probably get a kick out of. Oh, and their voices were also weirdly loud. Not that he really cares much about that at the moment. His friend smelling like a snack bar is probably not a good thing. 

Sam tilts her head and smirks, “nice. Very spooky look. Why though”, then rolling her eyes, “this hardly feels emergency worthy”. 

Danny blinks owlishly at him before commenting rather emotionlessly and pointing at him, “dude, I can’t hear your heartbeat”. Oh. Okay. Cool. That’s a check on the ‘am I dead?’ box. Or at least more dead than Danny. 

Tucker blinks and very pointedly tries to ignore his weird senses being weird and making Sam seem very edible. Sticking a finger up in the air, “so I may have found a new hidy house with a magic indestructible chair and a now very dead vampire? I straight-up murdered with it. Also probably not really human anymore”, and gesturing vaguely to his _everything_. 

Danny makes a weird series of faces and just walks up and pokes him, “well okay then. You’re way less warm than your normal shit, but do we need to bury a corpse?”. Unfortunately, or fortunately whatever, there was going to be no corpse burying party today. 

Tucker laughs, none of them every really questioned each other’s bullshit now. Murder? Okie dokie; where the shovels at? Friend missing a heartbeat? You’re still walking a talking so who really gives a shit. Smirking at Danny a little, “and you smell like goddamn death and whip cream, but you didn’t hear me pointing that out. Also no. Turned to a bunch of ash, getting me out of possibly one day having to awkwardly explain away gutting and decapitating someone”. 

Sam whistles, “damn. Your first murder and you really went for it. Also, fuck you, do I have to be the only one who has to actually _buy_ my fangs?”. 

Danny expectantly giving a fanged smile, Tucker shrugging and joining him in rubbing in Sam’s lack of being well endowed in the teeth department. Sam sticks her tongue at them before screwup her face, tossing her hands up in the air, and walking in a little circle, “how the Hell am I the only not dead one here!”. 

Danny and Tucker both responding in sync with, “you're dead inside”. She just rolls her eyes, though smiling. 

Sam flops to lay down on his bed so Tucker shrugs and opts for the beanie bag; Danny, in typical fashion, just collapses on the floor. Sam’s the one to finally decide to be smart and ask smart people questions, “so what we doing with this? Because vampire implies blood-drinking and your ass will probably turn anyone you bite but don’t murder”. 

Danny butts in, “and murdering is a no go. Obviously”. Yeah Tucker could do without murder qualifying as his commonplace after school fun time anytime soon; or ever for that matter. 

Tucker lifts his head up off the beanie bag and looks to them, “no shit. But if it’s anything Danny-dude, I supremely do not want to eat or drink or whatever you”.

Danny snorts, “nice to know I don’t qualify as edible”, then adding, “to you”. Sam kicks him, grumbling, “you disgust me”. Both of them propping themselves up, seemingly realising an ever so slight issue. Or a big fucking one if you asked Tucker. Sam pointing at him, “what about me?”. She seems arguably less concerned than she sound about the possibility of smiling like food. Which makes total fucking sense since all their self-preservation bullshit was butchered. 

Tucker frowns at her slightly, mind easily focusing in on the very much mouth-watering smell of her again. Yup. His luck sucks. This is gonna be a problem. “Food. Definitely food”. 

She tilts her head, “I’m torn on whether that’s cool or not. Because on one hand, a _vampire_ wants to bite me. On the other hand, a vampire wants to _bite me_ ”. 

Tucker shrugs, personally he’d go with not so cool, “Danny’s a great distraction in that regard”. 

Danny nods, “so no special Sam and Tuck alone time”. Sam kicks him again. 

Sam looks back to Tucker, “you’re not, like, getting any bitey urges are you?”.

If Tucker was he thinks he would be having a bit of a crisis right now. Shaking his head, “no. But your... smell, is definitely making my mouth water”. Seriously, it was actually a bit annoying. But he is totally glad there is zero fucking boundaries or sense of shame between them right now. Because this conversation is probably all kinds of super not fucking okay. In a movie, this conversation would probably be some super angsty dramatic shit.

Sam grunts and flops back down onto the bed, “that could be a problem”. 

Tucker rolls his eyes, “ya fuckin’ think?”. He’s a total meat eater but preferably not people meat or whatever. Don’t get him wrong, he’d totally try that even before this shit. Just minus probable murder or accidentally founding a vampire cult colony. Though if they were all hot ladies that might be kinda nice...

Danny slaps a hand on the ground, the loudness genuinely making Tucker jerk, “could you not dude? My hearing is seriously jacked up”. Danny gives him a slightly sympathetic look. Which ain’t fucking surprising considering the guys freaky strong ghostly hearing. 

Danny gets up, “you’ll adjust. _Trust me_. Anyway, I have a fucking idea. Or more so realised I need to point out we’re dumbasses”.

Sam snorts, “what’s new?”. Which truth, the amount they fucked up or forgot things or had some seriously screwed up priorities, was honestly impressive. 

Danny gestures for them to get up and of course they fucking do, Danny’s the leader. Always has been, always gonna be. Him grabbing them around the waist, which Tucker is totally cool with because he is not going to test if vampires can fly by launching himself out his fucking window. 

Throwing an arm around Danny like always before jerking it back at touching Sam, because holy fucking shit. _PULSE_. It was like he could feel it up his arm and through his whole damn body, even making his teeth _twitch_. Only absently noting that Danny’s weird slow and thick? pulse didn’t elicit the same reaction. Yanking his hand over his mouth, because again with the _twitching_. And said teeth feeling kinda stuffy and absolutely definitely wanting to stick them in something. What the fuck. And now she smells _drastically_ better, “oh holy shit”. 

Danny raises an eyebrow at him, “you fine?”, then giving him the same look he gives to trouble-making ghosts that aren’t total villains at the same time. Tucker’s eyes feel heavier? thicker? whatever, less important than just not being able to keep his mouth fucking closed. This is probably what urges or cravings or whatever the fuck vampires get, feels like. Danny staring at him and obviously being able to tell he’s having an issue or two, “alright that’s a ‘no’. You gonna get bitey, you think? What happened?”. 

Tucker’s not gonna bitch about Danny treating him like a problem. All three of them have tried to off each other more than a few fucking times. All of them had no issues treating each other like a problem or being treated like one. Looking to Sam, deciding that’s a bad fucking idea considering he can literally see her pulse in her veins. Which would be absolutely trippy if it weren’t making his teeth get all twitchy again. Looking to and focusing on Danny, “it’s the _pulse_ ”. The words sound a little hissy, kinda like how Danny’s voice got all echoey even while human when his Obsession was being a pushy bastard. 

Danny snorts, “pulses are kind of weird for the dead”, then flying out the window. Tucker decidedly avoiding touching Sam.

That was _not_ how Tucker meant that. Actually hissing at him a little, “that’s not it. I can _feel_ it. _In my teeth_ ”. 

Sam helpfully says, “that’s not very good”, then adding as Danny phases them through his bedroom wall, “also, nice hiss”. Tucker looks away from Danny for a second to send her a smile, knowing she absolutely meant that compliment. Sam was a sucker for some good hissing. And Danny may have developed a thing for hissing, typical ghost behaviour and genuinely scared Dash. 

Danny sets them down, pointing at Tucker while he slightly stiffly sits himself in the bed. Holy shit there were so many goddamn smells in here. Ancients fuck. Mostly that death smell Danny had. Appreciated distraction though, as he rubs at his nose. 

Danny points at him, “do I need to watch you?”.

Tucker shakes his head but probably doesn’t look too confident, because he doesn’t exactly feel confident, “no. Your room is very smelly”. Everyone laughs, even if Tucker is a little distracted by the feeling of the goddamn fangs dragging over his lips. Sam smartly sits across the room in Danny’s desk chair. Which fine, does make Tucker feel a tiny bit like a piece of shit. Which just makes him wonder if this is how Danny feels when his Obsession gets kind of aggressive and dangerous. Danny did almost kill him once because of that, his Obsession got stuck in a loop of ‘my friends would be safer dead’ which was not a fun day for anyone. 

Tucker and Sam watch Danny a bit curiously as he phases his hand into one of the walls. It making sense, and making both of them feel like idiots for not thinking of this themselves, when Danny phases out one of the many blood bags he keeps in the walls. Y’ know, just in case anyone’s on the verge of bleeding out entirely. Like he was. Literally hours ago. 

Tucker doesn’t really get to feel stupid for long though, practically able to feel his new pupils -Ancients, that was fucking weird- contracting and eyes feeling heavy while pretty much everything except the baggy just becomes fuzzy black shapes. 

Sam and Danny meanwhile, basically just watch Tucker lose his shit. His eyes fully turning red instead of just having flashes of red swirling around, and baring his teeth. Danny just tosses the baggy in the air when Tucker full out lunges at him. 

Danny easily getting out of the fucking way and sitting with Sam, being his typical protective asshole self. Speaking to Sam but watching Tucker, while he curls up on the floor and bites the bag very enthusiastically, “so, maybe _don’t_ bleed around him until he gets some kind of handle on this?”.

Sam gives Danny a dirty look, probably pointing out that Danny’s usually the one doing the bleeding, so he smirks, “hey, mine’s probably fine. Apparently I smell like inedible death”. She hits him. 

Crossing her arms, “well I have a better idea. Keep at least one baggy on us at all times, throw it at him if he gets bitey”.

Danny snorts, “like a chew toy with a dog”. 

Tucker -having apparently returned to his senses some, or whatever amount of sense he even possessed to begin with- flips him off. Before laying on the floor, shuddering and making a moaning sound. Tucker, for his part, is in fucking ecstasy. He feels one part like someone shot him in the face with some serious ass happy drugs and one part like he’s having a nice full body bath in an expensive jet tub. That absolutely was the goddamn best thing on the planet. Which was probably super not good in the ‘discourage Tucker from freaking drinking people’ department. Human beings were filled with liquid candy and he had a very fucking big sweet tooth. He officially understands Danny’s little humming thing whenever he really satisfied his Obsession, that he and Sam occasionally teased the guy for. Danny and Sam were going to bug him so much for doing practically the same damn thing. Especially considering how he can’t really help moaning again at the sloshing feeling in his stomach. Ancient shit that shit was the best shit he’s ever had in his life or apparent death. Kinda death. But they have shit to sort out, so he mentally slaps himself a few times and focuses on Danny’s ‘grim reaper taking a bath in whip cream’ smell. Pushing himself up on his elbows, “I think I’m good now?”. 

Tucker glares at their smirks, goddamn fuckers. Danny points to the very empty baggy, “you should make sure to make a habit of cleaning up your snack bags”.

Tucker gets himself up off the floor and picks it up, if dealing with... geez he can’t even think the word now without making his mouth water. Goddamnit. It’s good they were used to dealing with _this kind of stuff_ otherwise this would probably be gross to everyone. Flicking the baggy with impressive accuracy into the trashcan and smirking at Danny, “so are we really just going to call _that_ snacking?”.

Sam and Danny shrug, speaking in synch, “why not”. Danny adding, “though maybe try to learn _some_ self-control”. Tucker flips him off. 

Tucker shakes himself off a bit before joining them on Danny’s bed, decidedly next to Danny, not Sam. Sam leans over and grabs his hand anyway, which again with the damn _pulse_ and teeth _twitching_. He doesn’t pull away though, hissing a little, “still with the _pulse_. I’m gonna need a bit with this”. 

Sam gives him a little pat on the hand before pulling back and flopping to lay down. Danny following suit while saying, “oh and like my ghostly ass didn’t? Just don’t bite anyone and we’re good”. 

Tucker chuckles, trying to ignore the feel-good feeling in his body purely to not moan or some shit again; then laying down too. “Guess for the next three years we're watching and helping my ass”, laughing, “so what weird shit’s gonna happen to you in three years Sam?”. 

“I’ll become a god, that’s what. I can’t _believe_ you took the vampire option away from me. You fucking bastard”. 

Tucker smiles, eh, this shit will work out for them. Shit went south for him and tits up and is probably going to beat him over the head with it. But that’s their usual and they’re all arguably fucked up dead people. 

**End.**

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Creator: RebelVampire666  
> Prompt: Tucker is turned into a vampire.


End file.
